The Age ofAdventurism 275
which made Arab petrodollars more valuable than ever. While visit-
ing Zaire, Sharon met not only that nation's President Mobutu Sese
Seko, but also Chad's President Habre. They established a meeting of
the minds on the need to confront Libyan subversion. As an immedi-
ate gesture to Chad, Sharon gave Habre a cargo of light weapons
flown especially from Israel. Within a very short time, the Israeli
army sent a delegation of fifteen advisers to N'Djamena from a secret
contingent already posted in Zaire.
When the Mossad found out about Tamir's secret mission and
Sharon's personal diplomacy, Nahum Admoni was furious. Africa
had traditionally been the Mossad's turf, not the defense ministry's.
But the entire operation had been carried out behind the Mossad's
back, and Sharon showed no apparent intention to inform the Mos-
sad. Admoni complained to Prime Minister Begin, pointing out that
it was highly perilous to station Israeli army officers in a country with
an unstable regime, where rebels could gain the upper hand at any
time. The dangers were even greater, because Israel's military ad-
visers in Chad might be taken prisoner by the front-line troops of
Libya.
Sharon and Tamir defended their diplomatic foray, stressing to
Begin the advantages of helping moderate Africans and moderate
Arabs such as Sudan's Numeiri in a bid to defeat Colonel Qaddafi.
The prime minister decided, however, that Admoni was correct
about both the dangers and the bureaucratic etiquette of including
the Mossad in matters of clandestine diplomacy. The fifteen Israeli
officers were ordered to return home from Chad. 28
The moment of truth was near in Israel, as the Kahan Commission
published its report on the Sabra and Chatila massacre in Beirut. On
February 8, 1983, retired judge Kahan decreed that Israel would have
to accept "indirect responsibility" for the mass slaughter. His report
also specifically recommended that Ariel Sharon be "excluded" from
the post of defense minister. Sharon reluctantly resigned on Febru-
ary 29
14.
The invasion of Lebanon, which had been launched the previous
June but still had Israeli forces mired in hostile territory, was seen by
Israelis as regrettable at best, and as a ghastly mistake in the eyes of
many. The warfare unleashed by the Israelis in an already violent
country killed thousands of Lebanese and Palestinians, both civilians
276 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
and combatants, and the Israeli casualties were far greater than the
army had anticipated: more than six hundred soldiers killed and
thousands wounded.
The goals of Operation Peace for Galilee were unattained. The Syr-
ians were not expelled from Lebanon. Lebanon did not sign a peace
PLOtreaty with Israel. The was still alive and fairly well, although ex-
pelled from Beirut and southern Lebanon. Despite Prime Minister
Begin's hopes, the Palestinians of the West Bank and Gaza continued
to pledge allegiance to Yasser Arafat, as Israel tried in vain to cultivate
an alternative Arab leadership in the occupied territories.
Within Israel's defense establishment, the intelligence community
was considered to have done very badly. The Mossad failed in its
most basic function of evaluation by placing its bets on the benefits of
an alliance with the Phalangists, now seen worldwide as a gang of
bloodthirsty murderers.
Word also leaked out that the Mossad and Aman, although asked
repeatedly by Begin and Sharon, had been unable to furnish precise
details of Arafat's movements. Several attempts by Israeli forces to
kill the PLO leader, during the war, took many other lives instead.
The booby-trapped cars and precision air raids simply missed Arafat,
the man whom Begin had dubbed "a beast on two legs."
When an Israeli sniper finally had a chance to fire on the Palestin-
ian leader, during the ceremonial evacuation of Beirut by his guer-
rillas, it was deemed politically unwise to shoot Arafat since he had
been humiliated anyway by apparent defeat. In any event, assassinat-
ing the head of the PLO in front of American and other diplomats su-
pervising the withdrawal, as well as the world's camera crews, would
have been very stupid. The sniper held his fire.
In October 1983, eight months after Sharon's departure from the
defense ministry, Prime Minister Begin astonished his cabinet by de-
claring "I have no more strength" and submitting his resignation.
The death of his wife, Aliza, had visibly depressed him, and a vigil
by Israeli antiwar protesters across from his official residence also
seemed to drive Begin into an introspective silence.
Foreign Minister Shamir became the new prime minister, as Begin
withdrew into almost total seclusion in his modest home on Zemach
Street in Jerusalem. Although he was one of Israel's great historical
figures, Begin refused to explain his motives for either war or peace.
His few confidants said that he was tortured by the feeling that he had
The Age ofAdventurism 277
been led astray by Sharon and chief of staff Raful Eitan, and in place
of the jubilation of victory that was promised he had the deaths of
hundreds of young Israelis in Lebanon on his conscience.
Nine months after Begin's dramatic departure from the political
stage, a new Israeli government was formed from the deadlocked re-
sult of a national election that deeply divided the country. After
months of wrangling between Likud and Labor in the summer of
1984, party leaders Shamir and Peres decided to share power in a
unique government of national unity. The cabinet was made up of
both major political blocs, and after Peres served as prime minister
for the first twenty-five months he would hand the job back to Sha-
mir in an unprecedented "rotation" for the second half of the govern-
ment's term.
There were great hopes for change in many facets of Israeli life. The
reluctant coalition managed to agree on an economic plan that reined
in the galloping three-digit inflation. Israeli forces withdrew from al-
most all of Lebanon, patrolling only a "security belt" near the border
alongside their surrogates in the South Lebanese Army.
Sharon was merely the minister for trade and industry in the coali-
tion government, but he continued to cast an influential shadow on
the nation's strategic outlook. Meantime, his friends in and around
— —the intelligence community Shalom, Eitan, and Nimrodi
would stir up some amazing trouble in the next few years.
THIRTEEN
Killings and Coverups
"Mr. prime minister," one of Yitzhak Shamir's bodyguards
whispered to him, "there is an urgent message for you to contact the
head of Shin Bet."
Anything but that, Shamir thought to himself as he quickened his
pace, his bodyguards at his heels, to a side room in the international
convention center in north Tel Aviv. Short and solidly built, with
bushy eyebrows as his trademark, Shamir glanced at his watch.
It was 7:30 p.m. on April 13, 1984, and in a few hours the results of
the internal elections of his Likud bloc would be known. Shamir had
been preoccupied for weeks by the battle of the titans that had been
raging in Likud for the top posts on the list of Knesset candidates.
More than half a year after Menachem Begin's dramatic resignation
bequeathed the premiership to Shamir, party rivals David Levy and
Arik Sharon refused to recognize him as the leader of Likud. Shamir
was aware that the results of the internal elections would decide the
struggle.
The prime minister knew the most likely subject of Avraham Sha-
lom's call. Shin Bet was on the verge of solving one of the most im-
portant mysteries in Israel in recent years: exposing the Jewish terror-
ist organization that had killed Palestinian students and attempted to
murder the three West Bank mayors.
Unlike his predecessor, Shamir did permit Shin Bet to plant in-
formers among the Jewish settlers in the occupied territories, and at
the last briefing he had been given by Shalom the prime minister had
been told that more than twenty suspects would be arrested in the
near future, all of them settlers.
Shamir did not attempt to intervene in the investigation, but pri-
vately he dreaded the inevitable findings. He hoped that the indict-
—ments would come after the internal Likud voting even better,
Killings and Coverups 279
after the general election due a month later. Arresting Jewish settlers
would place Shamir and his party under tremendous pressure from
extreme right-wing and nationalist parties, which would accuse the
Likud of being unpatriotic and would attract some of Likud's tradi-
tional voters.
"Mr. Prime Minister, I have already spoken to the head of Shin
Bet," Colonel Azriel Nevo, the prime minister's military aide, said as
Shamir entered the room. "He reported that Arab terrorists have hi-
jacked a bus along the Number 300 line, after it left the central bus
station of Tel Aviv on its way to Ashkelon. Military and police forces
are on alert, and orders have been given to stop the bus. There is fear
that the terrorists will try to cross into Egypt and take the passengers
along as hostages. We have no further information, not even regard-
ing casualties."
In spite of the seriousness of the incident and his natural concern
for the bus passengers, Shamir felt a certain sense of relief. He was
— —confident that the security forces the army and Shin Bet would
defeat the terrorists, and the political fallout would favor Likud. The
incident would dramatize Shamir's belief that concessions should not
be made to Israel's Arab neighbors and certainly not to the PLO, be-
cause this would only give encouragement to terrorism. Most opinion
polls had Shimon Peres's Labor party in the lead, but Shamir could
portray Peres as soft on the Arabs.
The military censor prohibited any news reports on the hostage
drama, but the fact that a bus had been hijacked could not be kept se-
cret for long. Rumors began to fly among the thousands of delegates
at the Likud conference, and then on to the scores of reporters and
photographers covering the political gathering. Most of the newsmen
made a mad dash for their cars and began driving southward in
search of a story even hotter than the Sharon-Levy struggle for influ-
ence in Likud.
Soldiers at a roadblock, meantime, had managed to shoot out the
tires of the bus and brought it to a halt in the Gaza Strip, less than six
miles from the Egyptian border. The bus was surrounded by large
numbers of police, army, and Shin Bet personnel. Avraham Shalom
himself arrived on the scene.
Shalom had joined Shin Bet after short stints as a kibbutz member
and as a soldier. He had always wanted to belong to Israel's cream of
280 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
—the crop the elite pioneers whose lives were so intertwined with
power, politics, and voluntarism that they identified completely with
the State of Israel and its struggles. They could not live without their
homeland, and it seemed that Israel could not exist without them.
He was born in 1929 as Avraham Bendor to parents who moved
to Palestine from Germany after Hitler's rise to power. In Tel Aviv,
as in Berlin, his parents attempted to give him a bourgeois education
that would befit a prosperous German-Jewish businessman. But
Avraham Bendor/Shalom preferred socialist values and joined a kib-
butz.
The 1948 war brought him into the army, where Isser Harel noticed
him and recruited him into Shin Bet. Shalom had the soul of a dedi-
—cated soldier and was known for putting his all into any mission
even training exercises. Among his valuable talents, he spoke English
and German. He was also quiet, ascetic, and cold. Always appearing
angry or upset, he never gave a hint as to why.
In three and a half decades with Shin Bet, Shalom participated in
most of its major operations, including the joint mission with the
Mossad to kidnap Adolf Eichmann in Argentina. Shalom was always
a field and operations man. He developed a close working relation-
ship with Yehuda Arbel, and together they conducted many secret at-
tacks against Palestinian terrorists. This remained Shalom's focus
after he was appointed head of Shin Bet in 1981, replacing Avraham
Ahituv. 1
Watching the motionless Bus 300 on the road near Gaza, Shalom
knew that the army and police had units specially trained to storm all
types of hijacked vehicles and rescue hostages. Shin Bet's job would
be to interrogate the Arab attackers and discover their accomplices,
sources of arms, and paymasters.
The sandy terrain alongside the road in Gaza was a beehive of anti-
terrorist activity. Giant searchlights turned the nighttime into day, as
armed soldiers mingled with uniformed police and Shin Bet men in
their civilian clothes. Walkie-talkies echoed back and forth, and
dozens of press photographers provided even more light with their
Aflashes. short distance away stood the Israeli bus, under the control
of four Palestinian gunmen.
Shalom, senior army officers, and Defense Minister Moshe Arens
were on the scene in the predawn hours of tension, but they could not
dispel the feeling that there was a lack of order and control. It was typ-
1
Killings and Coverups 28
ical of any major event in Israel: there were clearly too many people
milling around for the job at hand, and while there was great confi-
dence and even bravado it seemed that the authorities would impro-
vise their way to success rather than follow an organized plan.
Amid the gossiping crowd of officials and operatives who had
come as much out of curiosity as their desire to help, antiterrorist
specialists were gathering as much precise information as possible
about the hijackers, the weapons they had, and the locations of any
explosives on board the bus.
Not for an instant was there any intention of knuckling under to
the terrorists' demands. The hijackers wanted fellow Palestinian guer-
rillas released from Israeli prisons; but they would not succeed. Once
all the necessary data had been assembled with the aid of night-vision
and audio eavesdropping equipment, the Israeli forces knew that the
—hijackers had only light sidearms not even a machine gun. They
were amateurs.
Israel's professional army commandos were ready, and the signal
was given for the rescue assault to begin. Soldiers of the top sayeret,
who had practiced the technique hundreds of times, smashed several
windows and were inside the bus in seconds. They opened fire imme-
diately, killing two of the terrorists and wounding the other two. The
hostages were free, although a twenty-year-old woman was killed in
her seat and other passengers were slightly wounded.
The men of the sayeret quickly returned to their base, maintaining
the invisibility that is part of their mystique, after handing over the
two wounded terrorists to another army unit and to Shin Bet interro-
gators. Israel's soldiers had swiftly accomplished yet another dazzling
— —rescue after some two dozen similar feats since 1967 making it
look easy to do what other nations could hardly ever manage.
"But that can't be," Alex Libak, a photographer for the new tabloid
newspaper Hadashot, said when he heard the army's announcements
on the radio a few hours later. The official spokesman first declared
that two terrorists had been killed and two wounded. An hour later
the announcement was corrected, now saying that all four bus hi-
jackers had been killed in the army assault.
Libak was puzzled because he had witnessed the shootout and viv-
—idly remembered the charred bodies of two hijackers the bus had
—caught fire in the gunfight but had also seen how soldiers and men
in civilian clothes were pummeling two wounded terrorists with their
282 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
fists and rifle butts. He even remembered the terrified eyes of the Pal-
estinians, as he hurried to the Hadashot photograph laboratory to de-
velop his rolls of film. Libak did not have to make much of an effort
to find the picture he was looking for. It clearly showed security men
leading away one of the hijackers for questioning. 2
"You're sure?" said Yossi Klein, the newspaper's young editor. He
was amazed when Libak showed him the photo and told him what he
had seen.
"Yes, a thousand percent," the photographer answered.
What was odd was that the defense ministry itself seemed unsure of
what precisely had happened on the night between April 13 and 14.
Arens appointed an internal commission of inquiry, headed by Major
General Meir Zorea of the army reserves, an honorable man with an
impeccable record.
Arens's spokesman, Nahman Shai, called the military censors' of-
fice and asked them to prevent the publication of any reports on the
controversy. The censors and Shai himself contacted all the newspa-
pers and many foreign reporters in Israel to say that any article on Bus
300 would have to be submitted for censorship. The implication was
clear: Any article, report, or radio or television dispatch would be
banned. The reason given for this decision was that any publication,
even a mere hint, that the two terrorists had been caught alive and
subsequently killed while in captivity could cause the deaths of Israeli
prisoners held by Palestinian guerrilla groups.
Klein suspected that behind the stated reason there were other fac-
tors at play, meant to deprive the Israeli public of the truth. In direct
violation of the military censors' ban, he splashed Libak's dramatic
photo across Hadashofs front page, with a brief news item that the
defense ministry had established a commission of inquiry to examine
the circumstances surrounding the incident.
Following Hadashot, which was motivated in part by its appetite
for a sensational scoop and added sales, the other newspapers soon
published details of the case. Defense Minister Arens reacted vigor-
ously, using his legal authority to punish Hadashot by closing it down
for four days. Excluding administrative actions against Arab newspa-
pers in East Jerusalem and the occupied West Bank, this was the first
time a Hebrew newspaper had been ordered shut since the Commu-
nist party's Kol Ha am in 1952. The stern reaction against Hadashot
strengthened suspicions that its story was accurate.
Killings and Coverups 283
The next month, on May 24, 1984, the Zorea Commission submit-
ted its report to the defense minister, stating clearly that two of the
terrorists had been taken alive off the bus. It was now necessary to in-
vestigate, to find out who had killed them. The Zorea report was clas-
sified and was not released to the press; but it was sent to the police,
Attorney General Yitzhak Zamir and the state prosecutors, and the
military police for further attention.
Political battles continued as always, with Shamir retaining the
Likud reins. The general election in June 1984 produced a stalemate:
a dead heat between Likud and Labor, and neither able to woo
enough small parties into a coalition. The two political behemoths
were forced to create a strange new creature, the government of na-
tional unity with its peculiar "rotation" of prime ministers.
Shimon Peres had first crack at leading the unwieldy coalition,
which immediately immersed itself in quarrels over his efforts to halt
the galloping inflation rate, which had jumped the 600 percent hur-
dle, and his insistence that Israel's troops be brought home from their
disastrous adventure in Lebanon. Nothing was being said about the
hijacking of the bus the previous April.
Only a small minority of Israelis would care about the death of two
Palestinians who were, after all, terrorists. Even as Bus 300 faded
from public memory, a battle royal was being waged behind the
scenes.
Shin Bet's men had testified to the Zorea Commission that they
had received the two terrorists from the army so badly beaten up that
they had not even been able to interrogate them. This Shin Bet ver-
sion said that the two hijackers died a short time later from the blows
—previously inflicted on them obviously pointing the finger of
blame at the army.
The investigative team working for the state prosecutor, Yona Blat-
man, was inclined to go along with Shin Bet's story. In July 1985,
Blatman charged Brigadier General Yitzhak Mordecai, who was the
commander in charge of the army's rescue operation, with responsi-
bility for the two deaths.
General Mordecai was court-martialed and did not deny that he
had hit the terrorists with the butt of his revolver, but he explained
—that he had done so "for the needs of operational intelligence" to
find out immediately whether bombs had been planted aboard the
bus. In any event, he added in his defense, "when I received them,
284 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
they were already in bad shape." 3 The military court accepted his
claim that by the time the hijackers were forcibly taken off the bus
they had practically died from their wounds. The general was acquit-
ted of all charges.
Based on all the testimony available, Blatman and Attorney Gen-
eral Zamir recommended that two Shin Bet operatives be tried for
—having beaten the terrorists. These two Israelis were also acquitted
but they had faced only an internal Shin Bet court. The agency always
has its own disciplinary court, consisting of three members: one from
Shin Bet, one from the Mossad, and a district court judge who is pres-
ident of the special secret tribunal. The court is convened when a
Shin Bet operative is accused of violating orders or the agency's code
of conduct. 4
The internal court is known for the severity with which it treats
even the most minor infractions. Shin Bet personnel who are caught
exploiting their position for private purposes are dismissed. For ex-
ample, operatives who used their official missions abroad as an ex-
cuse to smuggle a television or videotape recorder into Israel were
tried and dismissed, forfeiting all their rights to severance pay or a
pension. Those found lying or not giving full reports to their superiors
were also dismissed. Only rarely was a violator given a second chance.
— —The aim was to create and in this it was successful labor rela-
tions based on mutual trust and accurate reports. The reports would
not always be pleasant, and everyone in Shin Bet knew that the
agency had to be involved in questionable endeavors and dirty tricks.
How else could the state be protected, considering the challenges and
dangers of the Middle East? But Shin Bet chiefs always explained to
their personnel that regardless of how serious or disturbing the cir-
cumstances, they had to give a complete and factual account to head-
quarters. Shin Bet wished to adopt as sacrosanct the principle that,
while the nature of the work would often entail lying to the outside
world, operatives would speak only the truth to their superiors.
The bus case proved that this was an impossible expectation.
Sooner or later, a person who has been given permission to lie in cer-
tain circumstances will permit himself to lie in other circumstances as
well. So it was with three of the highest-ranking men in Shin Bet:
Reuven Hazak, Shalom's deputy; Peleg Radai, head of the security
branch; and Ran Malka. 5 Even though they were in their forties,
while Shalom was in his fifties, all four were considered "the Arbel
Killings and Coverups 285
kids" who acted in the spirit of Yehuda Arbel's daring operations
against terrorism. After so many outrages by Arab attackers and so
many successes in combating the terrorists, the "kids" broke apart
completely over a single bus hijack.
Hazak, Radai, and Malka traded notes and found that they had all
been ordered by Shalom to present false testimony and forged memo-
randa to the agency's internal court. They were willing to do anything
for Shin Bet, including lying, fabricating documents, and concealing
evidence, but this deliberate deception of Shin Bet's own disciplinary
tribunal proved too much for them. They had done it, but now they
wanted to come clean.
The three men went to Shalom and demanded a full explanation of
why they had been ordered to act as they did. When Shalom's expla-
nations failed to satisfy them, they urged him to resign.
Shalom refused to quit, but he permitted Reuven Hazak to meet
with Prime Minister Peres. The meeting was short and frosty. Peres
did not want to believe what he was hearing from Hazak. The prime
minister had heard beforehand from Shalom that Hazak was making
a power play for the job of Shin Bet chief.
Peres was also concerned about the political implications. After all,
this was a case that related to the period when Yitzhak Shamir had
been prime minister and Moshe Arens defense minister. Now, when
all were together in the national unity government, a decision by
Peres to side with Hazak could blow the coalition apart. Shin Bet's
Shalom could imaginably have been acting with Shamir's knowledge
all along. Political infighting based on intelligence scandals, such as
the Lavon Affair in Egypt three decades earlier, had never benefited
any of the politicians involved. These matters were best left secret.
For a variety of reasons, Peres accepted Shalom's claim that Hazak
—had a hidden agenda to stage an internal revolt in Shin Bet. Bol-
stered by the prime minister's backing, Shalom felt sufficiently strong
to suspend all three of his opponents. He was kicking out his former
proteges.
If Shalom thought that he was thus closing the lid of Pandora's box,
he was deeply mistaken. The three Shin Bet officers pressed forward
with their struggle. Even though the agency chief specifically forbade
them to do so, they went to Attorney General Zamir at the end of
1985 and gave him further, hair-raising details of alleged perjury and
coverups.
286 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
Shin Bet was immediately split into two camps: those who sup-
ported Shalom, and others who backed the three rebels. It was impos-
sible to remain aloof from a struggle that touched nearly everyone in
the secret agency. Clashes between morals and expedience, between
emotion and logic, and between loyalty and a higher patriotism were
coming to the surface.
Ran Malka filed a lawsuit in Israel's supreme court, charging that
Shalom had wrongly suspended him and demanding that he be re-
instated. At Shin Bet headquarters in Tel Aviv, all that everyone
—discussed the secretaries who typed the reports, the technicians
who invented the counterintelligence equipment, the mechanics who
maintained the counterterrorism systems, the operatives checking in
from their posts in the occupied territories, and even the heads of
—departments was "the case," as if they had no other work to do.
All manner of wild rumors flew around, with the most absurd ac-
cusations being made. All the resentments and grudges bottled up for
years were being voiced, even to journalists who could not possibly
publish them because of press censorship.
Among other tales, it was hinted that behind the extraordinary
mushrooming of the scandal stood a woman. It was claimed that one
of the three rebels was on intimate terms with a senior Israeli attor-
ney, and that she had pushed them into complaining to the attorney
general. This was not merely a debate on how to treat hijackers once
they were captured. It was an argument over leadership, morality,
and trust. Shin Bet had never known an internal war of such ferocity.
Yitzhak Zamir, who had been dean of the law faculty at Jerusa-
lem's Hebrew University before being appointed in 1981 as attorney
general and "legal adviser" to the government, was deeply shaken by
the seriousness of the accusations being made. He went to Prime
Minister Peres and told him everything he had heard. Zamir said he
intended to hand all the evidence, hearsay and documentary, to the
police for a formal investigation.
—Peres was shocked not by the evidence he heard, but by the at-
torney general's plans to pursue it in the way of all perjury and cov-
erup allegations. The prime minister tried to explain to Zamir that a
police investigation of Shin Bet would seriously harm national secu-
rity.
Zamir suggested, as a compromise, that Shalom resign immedi-
ately. Shalom and Peres rejected the proposal out of hand. Peres then
Killings and Coverups 287
convened an urgent meeting with Shamir, formally deputy premier,
and Defense Minister Yitzhak Rabin. These three men, known col-
lectively as "the prime ministers' club" because all had experience in
the top job, decided to do whatever they could to stop Zamir.
Whether Labor or Likud, no one in the major parties wanted to see
Shin Bet torn apart even more. In the conflict between democracy
and national security, Israel's leaders chose to defend their domestic
security agency rather than democratic values.
The three "club" members knew that the attorney general had al-
ready asked, months earlier, to be relieved of his position. With no
connection at all to Bus 300 and the Shin Bet mess, Zamir had been
hoping to retire from government. Peres, Shamir, and Rabin con-
cluded that they should make Zamir's resignation immediate, with a
minimum of fuss. They could then have an attorney general and legal
adviser who would be more amenable.
The club, accustomed to acting almost as a government within the
—government three politicians, making all the toughest decisions on
—their own was not going to have its way so easily this time. It was
simply too late to stop a scandal that had already begun.
Zamir preferred to postpone his intended departure so he could
pursue the Shin Bet case. He saw no contradiction between the demo-
Oncratic rule of law and national security. the contrary: in his view,
an attempt to cover up and obscure matters could only harm Israel.
On May 18, 1986, Zamir lodged a formal complaint with the police,
compelling them to investigate the charges and countercharges with-
in Shin Bet. By now, in private talks and even in the public media,
the subtle, censored hints had changed from "the Bus 300 case"
to "the Shin Bet affair."
A few days after the police launched their probe, Israel's state-
owned television news broadcast a brief report of an investigation af-
fecting Shin Bet. Because of the censorship system operated by
TVAman, the newscast was not able to name the intelligence officers
concerned. Instead, it referred to "a senior official" and to "the case,"
which brought to mind the Lavon Affair of the 1950s. Once again,
only Israelis who already knew about the scandal could understand
what the news media were trying to say. The general public was left in
the semidark.
The cork finally flew out of the bottle when the censorship system
proved how ineffective it had become. An American television net-
288 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
work violated censorship by naming Avraham Shalom as the "senior
ABCofficial.' ' News reported that he was suspected of having or-
dered the killings of the two bus hijackers, and that the government
was trying to cover up the entire case despite the stand adopted by its
attorney general. Because the American people had been told rather
more about the case, the censor now had to permit the Israeli newspa-
pers to repeat what had been broadcast in the United States. At the
very least, Shalom's name was out in the open. A Shin Bet chief had
been unmasked in public.
The investigation took shape at an increasingly dizzy pace. The police
reluctantly questioned the Shin Bet personnel involved, including
Shalom, plus the ministers in power at the time of the hijack, Shamir
and Arens.
Shalom, who had decided to defend himself, hinted that he had
been acting "with the authority" of Prime Minister Shamir. But once
he saw that the evidence was mounting against him and that there
were real chances of his being charged with murder or manslaughter,
Shalom engineered a clandestine, late-night meeting of the entire
cabinet on June 23. On the recommendation of the prime ministers'
club, the government passed an unprecedented resolution: The head
of Shin Bet and his three rebellious operatives would all be dismissed,
and as part of the deal a total of eleven members of Shin Bet would be
—granted a blanket pardon so that they could not be brought to trial.
The cabinet also appointed a commission of inquiry of three govern-
ment attorneys, headed by Yehudit Karp, to investigate the Shin Bet
case in detail.
Shalom and the others had their immunity from prosecution,
which was fortunate for them considering the illegalities exposed by
the Karp Commission. Publishing its report at the end of December
1986, the panel praised Hazak, Radai, and Malka for testifying, and it
stated its firm conclusion that the three rebels had told the truth. The
commission said that the head of Shin Bet had lied, had ordered his
aides to lie, and had altogether pulled the wool over the eyes of three
—prior investigations by Zorea, by Blatman, and by the Shin Bet dis-
ciplinary court.
Karp and her panel also ruled that Hazak, Radai, and Malka had
known of Shalom's decision to lie to the Zorea and Blatman commis-
sions. As part of the coverup, the Shin Bet chief had managed to place
one of his own men on the Zorea inquiry panel. Only when the Karp
Killings and Coverups 289
Commission issued its report did the true intent of Shalom's demand
become clear.
The Karp report revealed that the Shin Bet representative on the
Zorea Commission, Yossi Ginossar, had been Shalom's Trojan horse,
informing his boss of the direction being taken by the investigation
and influencing the commission to reach conclusions that favored
the Shin Bet chief.
Ginossar carried out his task with complete loyalty to Shalom. He
changed some evidence, suppressed other statements and documents,
and did everything possible to be sure that the coverup would be com-
plete. Before each session of the commission, he met the Shin Bet op-
eratives who were due to appear before the panel. Ginossar would
brief them, and he would make sure that their testimony did not con-
flict with that of others. He hoped that Shalom would help him be-
come the next head of Shin Bet.
Guided gently but surely by Ginossar, the Zorea Commission
placed the blame for the killing of the two Arab terrorists on General
Mordecai. Whitewashing Shalom's role thus involved blackening the
name of a prestigious military officer. The Shin Bet chief was willing
to see Mordecai convicted, when the person who had given the orders
to kill the terrorists was none other than Shalom himself.
The truth, as it emerged through Karp's report, was that the two
wounded bus hijackers were transferred to Shin Bet for interrogation
and then killed. The security agency's staff attorneys, who were in-
volved in the coverup, rationalized their behavior by claiming that
they had attempted to protect what they called "one of Shin Bet's big-
gest secrets." The Karp Commission condemned the in-house law-
yers.
In his defense, Shalom continued to claim that he had simply acted
on the basis of authority granted to him by the prime minister. Ac-
cording to Shalom, he had had a meeting with Yitzhak Shamir in No-
— —vember 1983 five months before the bus hijack in which the
question of how to deal with captured terrorists was dealt with in a
general manner, without referring to any specific event. More partic-
ularly, Shalom claimed, Defense Minister Arens had authorized the
killing of the two terrorists. Arens denied this completely, and while
Shamir admitted to having had such a conversation with Shalom,
Shamir denied that he had ordered the Shin Bet chief "not to take
prisoners."
The Karp Commission chose to believe the prime minister and the
290 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
defense minister, and not the head of Shin Bet. The commission also
stated clearly that on the night of the bus hijack itself, the Shin Bet
chief had not received any orders from the prime minister as to how
to treat the 6
terrorists.
As a result of the report, it was decided that the practice at the time
of Prime Ministers Golda Meir and Yitzhak Rabin would be revived,
whereby there would be a note taker present at any meeting between
the prime minister and the heads of the secret services. No one had at-
tended the Shamir-Shalom talk in 1983, so there were no memoranda
or minutes.
The Karp report left the Israeli public shaken, and even more so its
confidence in the intelligence community. After so many years of
hearing nothing about Shin Bet and trusting in its proper behavior,
many citizens felt that the security chief of their democratic country
had acted in a manner characteristic of the worst of dictatorships. Ac-
cording to the reports appearing in the Israeli press, he had behaved as
if he were above the law. In the eyes of many Israelis, Shalom could
have been forgiven if he had "only" been guilty of killing two Pales-
tinian terrorists. But the coverup, as described in newspapers, went
beyond acceptable limits.
As in Israel's Lavon Affair and America's Watergate scandal, the
true dynamite was not in the deed itself but in the coverup that fol-
lowed. As understood by the general population, it seemed that the
—top people in Shin Bet the most sensitive branch in the intelligence
—community, because its actions can affect every Israeli citizen had
conspired against their political superiors and the public they were
meant to serve.
Had any one of the central characters in the case stood up at any
stage and admitted, "I gave the order," there would have been a
chance to contain the fire. But everyone involved in the Shin Bet
scandal seemed to try to pass the blame on to others.
The chief of the agency, Avraham Shalom, had to start a new life as
a private citizen. Prime Minister Peres helped him get a job with
Shaul Eisenberg, an Israel-based international merchant of aircraft,
arms, and goods and services of almost all sorts. Shalom was sent to
New York, but to avoid the glare of unfavorable publicity he went
under his old name, Avraham Bendor.
In the United States, Shalom/Bendor made good use of his profes-
Killings and Coverups 291
sional experience to procure defense-related contracts for Eisenberg.
He had always appeared to be an unhappy man, but now he genu-
inely seemed displeased with his lot. New York was exile for him, and
the work was far from fascinating. He even had to take care of the
kind of business details which he had delegated to his Shin Bet subor-
dinates for many years.
He had few alternatives. The Shin Bet killings and coverup were
too fresh, too embarrassing, and too painful for anyone to give him a
decent job in Israel. Shalom/Bendor's homeland had rejected him.
He also found it hard to act freely abroad, however. The Port Au-
thority of New York and New Jersey canceled a $75,000 contract with
an Israeli company called Atwell Security when it learned that the
firm's president was Bendor and who he really was. The Port Author-
ity said simply it was "no longer satisfied with the agreement" it had
signed for security advice at the New York-area airports from the
Eisenberg-owned firm of consultants. 7
In the absence of an explanation by Shalom himself for the killing by
interrogators of the two bus hijackers, his friends in and around Shin
Bet came up with their own justifications. One claimed that it was a
—cold-blooded and "professional" move quite right in terrorist war-
fare, because the hijackers were amateurs who acted on their own ini-
tiative and could not provide any intelligence on any enemy organi-
zation. Unable to supply information, they represented no value to
Shin Bet. Even a trial, in this view, would be too good for them.
There were others who could explain the decision based on the cu-
mulative influence of Shin Bet's involvement in Lebanon between
1982 and 1985, until the national unity government withdrew the
Israeli troops. Lebanon was Shin Bet's Wild West. Press reports spoke
of Yossi Ginossar traveling around like a sheriff. There were cases of
smuggling and other breaches of army and secret-agency regulations,
and reports to Shin Bet headquarters were incomplete at best. The
agency's operatives knew that while certain norms and rules of behav-
ior were in effect in the West Bank and Gaza, there was nothing but
barely controlled anarchy in Lebanon. The misbehavior learned
there spread to the occupied 8
territories.
Everything that was published about Shin Bet and its problems in
1987 was read avidly, and nowhere more than in one of the cells of a
292 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
military prison in central Israel. As he sat engrossed in his thoughts
and longing for his family in Kafr Kama, the afternoon papers ar-
rived in Izat Nafsu's cell, just as they had been arriving for the pre-
vious seven years.
He was suddenly overcome by emotion and turned pale. In one of
—the newspapers, he saw a photograph of Ginossar one of the Shin
Bet officers who had just been pardoned by President Chaim Herzog,
as part of the cabinet's decision to end the scandal. The news was that
Ginossar had now been given a job in Ariel Sharon's ministry of trade
and industry.
"That's the man who interrogated me and set me up!" Nafsu ex-
claimed, and he hurriedly scribbled a letter to his lawyer. "I said to
myself that even if a hundred years pass, I will not forget Ginossar's
smile, a mocking smile, and how he told me to strip, spat at me, and
afterward, when I was on the floor, stomped on me and pulled out
my hair." 9
That was the beginning of a new case, no less severe than the bus hi-
jack, in which Shin Bet's once-good name was sullied. This one was
related to Lebanon.
No one could have expected a security scandal to emerge from a
clean and prosperous town such as Kafr Kama, in the rural hills near
the Sea of Galilee. Most of the members of Israel's tiniest minority
live there: a few thousand Circassians, non-Arab Moslems whose ori-
gins are in the Caucasus Mountains of the Soviet Union.
Like almost all the other young men of his community, Nafsu vol-
unteered to serve in the Israeli army, and he was proud that he had at-
tained the rank of lieutenant. In 1976, well before the Israeli invasions
of Lebanon in 1978 and 1982, he was sent to serve in the south of that
—country a mere thirty miles from his home in Kafr Kama, but
across the border from Israeli territory.
"I did not have a specific assignment," Nafsu wrote in his diary. "It
was in the first days of Israel's involvement in the region. I was in-
volved in all types of intelligence assignments, without being given
any type of real briefing. I was not given specialized training or
Mywarned of any specific precautions to take. assignment required
me to live among the Lebanese, many of whom were informers."
Nafsu used the word shtinker in his diary, a Hebrew borrowing
of the English word "stinker," to describe relatively unimportant col-
laborators and informers whom Israeli intelligence employed from
Killings and Coverups 293
among the Arabs in Israel and outside the nation's borders. The
young lieutenant wrote that his job was to provide arms, ammuni-
tion, and medical supplies to Christian and Shiite Moslem Lebanese
who would oppose the Palestinians.
Obviously sensitive to the complex historical and religious enmi-
ties in Lebanon, Nafsu called it "a place which destroys souls." He
wrote: "It was easier for me to liquidate a person there than it is for
the Mafia in New York. All around me, the cruelty ofjungle law pre-
vailed. Everywhere we looked, we saw events taking place which, in
—our terms, were utterly appalling murder, revenge. Human life was
cheap."
The diary records many incidents of Israeli soldiers and operatives
becoming rich by smuggling cigarettes, watches, televisions, and even
drugs into Israel. "For me," Nafsu added, "Abu Kassem was the sym-
bol of all these things. He was a shtinker who worked for all sides. He
was the Zorba of southern Lebanon. He was as sly as a snake. He was
the Lord of Survival, and it was he who decreed my 10
fate."
On the rainy night of January 4, 1980, according to the diary, a
knock on his door in Kafr Kama awakened him. Nafsu was still three
quarters asleep when he blindly asked in the Circassian language,
"Who's there?" There was no reply. Only when he repeated the ques-
tion in Hebrew did he receive an answer and he opened the door to
—find one of his friends, Danny Snir an officer in his army unit. Snir
told Nafsu to accompany him immediately on a secret mission into
Lebanon, promising that he could return home in a day or two.
Nafsu agreed immediately. He went up to the second floor, took a
bundle of clothes he kept ready, kissed his wife, Siahm, whom he had
married only three weeks earlier, and accompanied Snir. The next
time Nafsu saw his home was seven and a half years later.
Rather than being taken to his military unit Nafsu was brought to a
hotel suite in the port city of Haifa, and that is where he first made the
acquaintance of Yossi Ginossar. Nafsu did not know the man's real
name at the time, but as Nafsu was being treated so well he believed
that Shin Bet was out to recruit him.
As the conversation continued, however, he realized that he was
under investigation. The anonymous questioner kept asking about a
certain PLO man who, according to Shin Bet, had been in contact
with Nafsu. Only then did the Circassian officer begin to be afraid.
The Shin Bet man said, "Confess that you were a double agent of
294 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
the PLO. You can't play around with us; we know everything. We
have been following you for months." Nafsu denied all the charges
vehemently and he continued to do so after being transferred to Ki-
shon prison in Haifa, where Shin Bet maintains its own cells.
"Days and nights of investigation, threats, and intimidation
began," Nafsu wrote, adding that the then anonymous Ginossar had
a superior who called himself only "Pashosh."
"Once 'Pashosh' came into the room and claimed that he was
the deputy head of Shin Bet and head of its investigations branch.
meHe threatened to send to a facility used to investigate terrorists,
and that they would inject me with a substance which would render
me impotent. This threat of an injection was repeated constantly
throughout the investigation. Someone would open a drawer, as if he
were taking out the hypodermic."
Nafsu's diary says the Shin Bet interrogators also threatened to de-
tain his wife and strip her naked. "They would sometimes bring Play-
boy magazine with its pictures of nude women, so that I would get the
message. They also threatened to bring my wife and tell her that I had
had homosexual relations with Abu Kassem, and that they would
spread rumors in my village that I was a 'homo.' " u
Nafsu understood that the material against him was based on Abu
Kassem's testimony, and that the alleged motive for his working with
the PLO was sexual blackmail. Ginossar claimed that he had wit-
nesses, including Abu Kassem, who had seen Nafsu go to bed with
a PLO man and with a Lebanese Christian man. After the threats,
other Shin Bet investigators came to Nafsu's cell and played the role
of the good guys. They promised him that if he cooperated and told
everything he knew, they would give him a furlough so he could visit
his wife.
The specialty of any intelligence agency, and Israel's Shin Bet is
especially talented in this area, is discovering the weaknesses of the
people it contacts. In the case of Nafsu, his weak points were his wife
and his masculinity. As a member of the Circassian community, with
its clearly defined status for the male, he was afraid of the humiliation
that he would suffer if the interrogators' innuendos were circulated.
After forty days of continuous interrogation, he finally broke. He
confessed to all the crimes attributed to him, including treason and
espionage against Israel through contacts with the PLO.
Killings and Coverups 295
But when the trial began before a military tribunal, Nafsu retracted
his confession and claimed that it had been obtained through pres-
sure and threats. The Shin Bet investigators denied this, of course,
— —and the judge as in most cases regarding the security agency
believed them.
The trial was conducted behind closed doors, and even the ac-
cused's family was denied access to the courtroom. After hearings
and deliberations that dragged on for two years, Nafsu was convicted.
At the end of 1982, he was sentenced to eighteen years in prison and
demotion to the rank of private.
—Only Nafsu, his family, and his lawyer who had previously been
—Israel's chief military prosecutor continued to believe in his inno-
cence. Even after his judicial appeals were rejected Nafsu refused to
entertain suggestions, from Shin Bet among others, that he request a
pardon. "I wanted an acquittal, not a pardon," he explained.
— —Nafsu got what he wanted but after long suffering on May 24,
1987, when the Israeli supreme court acquitted him of espionage and
treason charges and annulled his eighteen-year sentence. Nafsu was
freed, was promoted to the rank of sergeant, and was paid all the sal-
ary due since his arrest. The justices did sentence him to two years in
prison, time already served, for failure to report meetings with PLO
members in Lebanon. The focus of the ruling, however, was harsh
criticism of Shin Bet, its interrogators, and the methods they used to
extract confessions.
The secret agency's actions were merely part of a wider, hostile en-
vironment. Shin Bet was like the bogey man with whom parents
would threaten their children if they did not behave. So it was in the
case of Daniel Shoshan. He was a private in the Israeli army, sen-
tenced in October 1986 to ten years in prison for "transferring infor-
mation to the enemy." As an army mail courier, he allegedly handed
documents to an Arab in the West Bank who had PLO connections.
The military police interrogators intimidated Shoshan by warning
him that if he did not confess to the charges, they would turn him
—over to Shin Bet and that would, no doubt, be much worse for
him. Based on what he had heard about Shin Bet, he succumbed to
the pressure and confessed to a crime he did not commit.
Two years later, after a retrial, Shoshan was completely cleared.
The appeals judges ruled that the military police had used physical
force and other coercion to obtain the young soldier's confession, and
that they had concealed evidence from the 12
court.
296 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
The Israeli public became accustomed to a new, negative reality.
Barely a decade earlier, it had been practically forbidden to utter the
name of Shin Bet and absolutely unacceptable to criticize the secret
services. Now, within less than a year, the veil of secrecy had been
lifted twice to show Shin Bet sullied by its two worst scandals: the
killing of the bus hijackers, and the improper prosecution of Nafsu.
The agency's judgment, piety of purpose, and modus operandi were
now under widespread suspicion. The people of Israel were seeing
their domestic security agency for the first time, and they did not like
what they saw.
President Herzog, who had consented to the deal whereby he par-
doned the senior officers of Shin Bet, now declared that the Nafsu
case had made him feel "ashamed." The new attorney general, Yosef
Harish, defied the wishes of the prime ministers' club and of Shin Bet
itself by ordering an investigation of Nafsu's interrogators. The offi-
cial intention was to press criminal charges, even though it was clear
that Ginossar could not be touched because of the blanket pardon he
had received.
Following pressure by public opinion, as represented by Israel's
newspapers and magazines, the government appointed a commission
of inquiry on May 31, 1987, just a week after Nafsu was set free by the
supreme court. The newest inquiry into the intelligence community
and its methods would be headed by Justice Moshe Landau, who had
retired from the supreme court. The other two investigators were
former Mossad chief Yitzhak Hon and the state comptroller, Yaakov
Maltz. For half a year, the Landau Commission heard testimony
from prime ministers, heads of Shin Bet, its operatives and legal ad-
visers, those who had been interrogated, representatives of the Israeli
Association for Civil Rights, and even foreign attorneys from Am-
nesty International.
In the meantime, yet another disturbing case came to light. Awad
Hamdan, a twenty-three-year-old resident of a small village near the
town of Tulkarem on the West Bank, was arrested on July 19, 1987, by
Shin Bet men. He was suspected of membership in a Palestinian ter-
rorist organization. Two days later, he died in his cell. His interroga-
tors claimed that he had died of a heart attack, but his family stated
that his corpse showed signs of physical 13
brutality.
Suspicions of torture swirled about the Hamdan affair and they
tainted even the government's pathological institute, where forensic
Killings and Coverups 297
experts were in charge of determining the cause of death of all who ex-
pired under suspicious circumstances in Israel.
Until the Landau Commission report in late November 1987, the
institute had the reputation of being reliable, professional, and trust-
worthy. It then became clear that, in the interests of "security," a
number of the doctors there had distorted the facts. They readily de-
termined the cause of death of the two terrorists killed in the Bus 300
— —affair in Shin Bet's favor as far as was possible and agreed to
state that Hamdan had died as the result of a heart 14
attack.
The Landau report was simply devastating: a printed record of how
deeply the rot had penetrated inside Shin Bet. It said that as early as
1971, the then chief of the agency, Yosef Harmelin, had agreed to have
his men lie in court. The report noted that Harmelin did not order his
men to lie, but simply accepted this as a fact of life.
Landau, Hon, and Maltz unanimously revealed that Shin Bet op-
eratives lied to Israeli courts as a matter of course and habit, even
though Israeli law imposes a penalty of seven years in prison for per-
jury. Shin Bet employees placed themselves above the law.
The decision to lie stemmed from the drastic upsurge in terrorist
acts that followed Israel's capture of the West Bank and Gaza Strip.
As the terrorism increased, Shin Bet investigators felt they had to use
—psychological pressures and some forms of torture "physical pres-
—sure," in the words of the commission to extract confessions from
the guilty.
Shin Bet took on the assignment of obtaining preventive intelli-
gence, to give the earliest possible warning of Palestinian attacks. Its
methods, however, went beyond Israeli law. Hundreds of terrorist
trials were little more than summary court martials, in which military
prosecutors would simply read aloud the confessions obtained by
Shin Bet. When defendants claimed that they had been tortured or
otherwise coerced into making false statements, the military judges
— —without any jury in the process accepted Shin Bet's denials.
A pattern of perjury continued for sixteen years, spanning the
terms of Avraham Ahituv and Avraham Shalom at the top of the
agency. The Landau report said that Shalom "found a norm based on
false testimony, so we were told, which 'was transferred from one gen-
eration to the next.'
" 'When I think of the war against terrorists,' so he told us, 4 do not
I
298 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
think in the context of the Israeli court.' He did not even understand
that there is something wrong with this norm. The commission re-
gards him as one of those responsible for the existence of this defec-
tive method."
The report deplored the entire Shin Bet leadership, "which failed in
not understanding that no security consideration, important or vital
as it may be, can place those involved above the law. The leadership
did not understand that it had been entrusted with an essential mis-
sion which might possibly justify certain means, but not all means,
and certainly not that of giving false testimony."
Landau's conclusions were written with more crystal clarity than
most government documents when he noted that within Shin Bet, it
was mandatory that operatives tell the truth. "Whoever was found
not to have reported the truth within the service was punished in the
most severe fashion, and there were even cases of dismissal from the
service. This approach created a type of 'double bookkeeping': insis-
tence on truth within the service on the one hand, and false testimony
in court on the other. This dual message evidently did not disturb
anyone for sixteen years."
At the same time, because the commission stressed the complexity
of Shin Bet's struggle against terrorism, it explicitly stated that the
agency's interrogators have the right to use a certain degree of "pres-
— —sure" on people meaning Arabs being questioned, without de-
fining what the limits should be. The report cautioned, however, that
each Shin Bet operative should not "make his own rules for himself,
arbitrarily, in applying pressure upon the person being interrogated."
The report continued:
In such circumstances, Israel's image as a law-abiding state, which ob-
serves civil rights, might be irreparably destroyed, and it might come to
resemble those regimes which grant their security services unlimited
powers. In order to prevent this danger, one may not use excessive
pressure upon a person being interrogated. The pressure may not reach
the stage of physical affliction or of brutality against the person under
investigation, or of any serious infringement of his honor which denies
his dignity as a human being.
Hoping to offer some sort of guideline, Landau wrote: "The degree
to which these means are employed must be weighed against the de-
gree of expected danger. The means of physical and psychological
Killings and Coverups 299
pressure must be denned and limited in advance. Every departure
from the permissible must be met by a reaction from the com-
manders which is forceful and unhesitating." 15
The commission thus chose a middle course between the view that
the law must be supreme, regardless of the terrorist threat, and the
opinion that fighting terrorism requires departures from the strict
rule of law. But even while Justice Landau and his colleagues were
concerned about a Shin Bet running wild, they did not attempt to
uproot overnight the unlawful norms to which the agency had be-
come accustomed.
Even before the ink on the report had dried, it became clear that three
Shin Bet interrogators had lied to the Landau Commission. As soon
as the new head of Shin Bet found out about the false testimony, he
suspended all three. The irony was that the new agency chief was
—none other than Yosef Harmelin coaxed out of retirement for a
second term twelve years after leaving Shin Bet, and seven years after
flying aboard a United States evacuation aircraft out of Teheran,
where he was Israel's unofficial ambassador until the Islamic revolu-
tion in 1979.
It was during Harmelin's original Shin Bet term, from 1964 to 1974,
that the habit of lying to the courts had developed. Harmelin was an
established and respected veteran, however, and was welcomed in
1986 as an interim Shin Bet chief to fill in at a time of crisis. His as-
signment was to reintroduce order, trust, and hope in the agency,
which had been torn apart by the various scandals and inquiries.
There was grave fear that Shin Bet's efficiency would be seriously
impaired. Morale was certainly terrible. After the Karp and Landau
reports, many Shin Bet operatives felt that they had been abandoned,
as usual, by the politicians who expected the secret services to take
care of the dirty work in the cruel war against terror.
In Shin Bet, the signs of discontent continued to grow. Operatives
barely concealed their disgust with investigators and journalists who
seemed to expect a pure, ultraclean form of warfare against terrorism.
The Shin Bet people blamed politicians for failing to make long-range
decisions on the status of the occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip and
law enforcement there. "We are the scapegoats of the occupation,"
was how many in Shin Bet felt. More than thirty-five years after the
original revolt of the spies who abhorred the formation of the Mos-
300 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
sad, it appeared that another minirevolt might break out inside the
Israeli intelligence community.
Harmelin, in his quiet way, managed to stabilize the Shin Bet ranks
and to calm down his employees. He was unable, however, to rectify
the damage caused to the reputation of Shin Bet and of the entire in-
telligence community. For the first time in Israel's history, the secret
services ceased to be sacred cows which need not face questions about
their methods of operation.
The kinds of questions that rocked the CIA in the 1970s confronted
Israel's intelligence community in the 1980s with unprecedented
doubts and painful truths. Having lost a large measure of public con-
fidence at home, Israel's spymasters were also facing a crisis with their
best friends abroad.
FOURTEEN
A Spy in America
When Jonathan jay pollard burst into the Israeli embassy
compound in Washington, D.C., on November 21, 1985, it was the
final act in a covert operation that threatened the Jewish state's life-
long relationship of trust with its most vital ally, the United States,
one of the key sources of Israeli strength.
Jay Pollard was sitting in his five-year-old Ford Mustang that
Thursday morning, sweating profusely. He was at the wheel; his wife,
Anne Henderson-Pollard, sat on his right; they had their birth certifi-
cates, marriage certificate, family photographs, their cat, and their
cat's vaccination papers with them. The Pollards were ready to flee
America. They were just outside the gates of the embassy compound,
near Connecticut Avenue and Van Ness Street in Northwest Washing-
ton, and their engine was running.
The heavy steel doors swung open to let another car in. Pollard
stepped down on the accelerator, swerving around the other vehicle,
to bring his Mustang into the parking lot at the front of the embassy
building, which was new, but built in an ancient style of Jerusalem
stone and arched windows. An Israeli security guard was about to pull
a gun out of his concealed shoulder holster, when the pudgy, balding
thirty-one-year-old driver blurted out something about being a Jew
seeking asylum. "The FBI is on to me, I need help," he told the puz-
zled Israelis.
Within moments, FBI agents who had followed Pollard were telling
the Israeli security team, through the intercom at the gate, that the
man who had just entered the compound in a Mustang was wanted
for questioning. Armed with diplomatic immunity, the Israelis could
—have done almost anything although sheltering a fugitive would
surely lead to a damaging diplomatic incident. The front gate made a
quick internal telephone call to the top floor of the six-story building,
302 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
where Israel's intelligence agencies had their Washington representa-
tives.
The embassy's chief security officer had heard from Pollard him-
self the previous day, reciting the names of Ran Eitan and other
handlers and demanding help. In a second phone call, the security
man told the American to come to the embassy if he could "shake"
the FBI. But here was the FBI right behind the Pollards, who were still
waiting in the parking lot out front, surrounded by Israeli plain-
clothes guards.
"Sorry," the two Americans seeking refuge were told, as the Israeli
security men escorted them back out the front gate. The FBI men ar-
rested Pollard, and they drove his wife home to 1733 20tn Street, N.W.
Jonathan Jay Pollard was on his way to a life in prison.
Pollard was a civilian who had worked for the U.S. Navy for six years,
most of that time in various intelligence and counterterrorism units.
Lest that sound too swashbuckling, Pollard was only a desk man. But
he was a man whose desk included a computer with access to almost
every secret collected and stored by America's huge intelligence net-
work. And while he considered himself a loyal American, he was also
a fervent supporter of Israel.
Pollard was born on August 7, 1954, to a Jewish family in Galves-
ton, Texas, and he spent most of his youth in South Bend, Indiana.
These were not America's strongest centers of Jewish culture or pro-
Israel activism, but Pollard was a loner anyway. He developed his
Zionist zealotry on his own.
Pollard studied at Stanford University, one of the nation's finest,
where his international relations professors found he had an overac-
tive imagination. He claimed to be a colonel in the Israeli army, al-
though at other times he said he was a captain, and he even told ac-
quaintances that the Mossad was grooming him to be a spy within the
U.S. government. 1
Pollard's dorm neighbors considered him "very troubled and shad-
owy," and he once was so agitated about a group of Israelis suppos-
edly trying to kill him that he showed friends a revolver and locked
himself in his room. He also told them that once, on guard duty on a
kibbutz, he had killed an Arab. 2
Pollard's stories always involved Israel, and he left some people
with the impression that the Mossad was paying his tuition fees.
A Spy in America 303
While the tales did not all seem to be credible, they were told with
such conviction that it was hard to believe they were totally false.
They were.
After receiving a bachelor's degree from Stanford in 1976, Pollard
crossed the country to the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at
Tufts University, near Boston. His graduate courses did not yield a
degree, but the United States Navy hired him as a civilian intelligence
analyst in the fall of 1979. His Washington-area navy jobs were in
agencies with names such as the Naval Operational Surveillance and
Intelligence Center, the Naval Intelligence Support Center, and the
Naval Investigative Service (NIS).
He was one of the chosen few brought into the new Anti-Terrorism
Alert Center in NIS headquarters in Suitland, Maryland, when all the
American armed forces greatly expanded their effort to detect early
signs of a terrorist threat. That was in June 1984, in reaction to the sui-
cide truck bombing that killed 241 U.S. servicemen in Beirut the pre-
Avious October. serious attempt to bring together all available facts,
clues, and rumors in this shadowy field necessarily involves access to
a wide range of sources and reports: on likely targets, potential at-
tackers, the identity of groups and individuals aiding terrorists, and
what other countries are doing about it.
In this age of terrorism, hardly any specific area in government
service and defense work could be quite so multidisciplinary. In other
words, Pollard enjoyed access to almost everything. Not only did he
have a computer that could reach into memory banks throughout the
federal intelligence system; not only did he have permission to see top
secret papers; he had the even higher level of clearance known as SCI,
or Sensitive Compartmented Information. And he had D.C.'s most
—valuable library card a "courier card" that permitted him to visit
high-security archives and carry documents back to his office for
analysis.
The nightmare of why his American employers failed to detect his
erratic personality traits in school, his exaggerated boasts and his out-
right lies, would go on to haunt security officers in Washington for
years. Pollard applied to the CIA for employment in 1977 but was re-
jected. When the Pentagon's Defense Investigative Service (DIS) per-
formed the standard background check on Pollard as an applicant for
a navy intelligence job two years later, they interviewed Pollard's fa-
304 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
ther and a few fellow students at Fletcher. But the CIA reportedly did
not provide the DIS with the Agency's assessment of Pollard as "a
fanciful liar, a closet spy, a Zionist zealot, and a drug abuser." 3
In 198 1 the navy did strip Pollard of his security clearance for a
short while, because of unspecified emotional problems described as
"bizarre behavior." Pollard even claimed to be a close friend of a sen-
ior South African intelligence man, but when that official visited the
United States, Pollard's bosses quickly discovered that his claims had
been false. They suggested that he seek psychiatric counseling, but
Pollard battled through the bureaucracy for about six months, filing
—a formal grievance and winning a reversal of the decision if only
because the U.S. military could not prove that there was anything
wrong with its peculiar civilian employee.
Jay Pollard, the American intelligence analyst who dreamed of spying
Hefor Israel, set out to live his fantasies. took his first real step into
the realm of treason in May 1984, when he met the man who would
make him a spy. Through a New York businessman he knew, Pollard
was introduced to an Israeli air force colonel named Aviem Sella.
It was conspiracy at first sight. Pollard told the colonel that he had
positive proof that the United States was not sharing all the intelli-
gence data it should with Israel, and Pollard said he was angry about
it. Sella, one of Israel's finest pilots, who had taken part in the raid on
the Iraqi nuclear reactor in 198 1, listened with interest.
Sella dutifully reported through the chain of command, all the way
back to air force headquarters in Tel Aviv. From there, his report
about a frustrated U.S. intelligence man interested in helping Israel
was passed to Ran Eitan, the frustrated Israeli intelligence man now
associated with the defense ministry as head of the technological espi-
onage agency Lakam.
Israel was already obtaining valuable technology of the most sensi-
tive kind from at least one source in the United States. Among the go-
betweens was an Israeli entrepreneur in Hollywood who introduced
his country's defense officials to a corporation named Milco of Cali-
fornia, owned by Richard Smyth. An American Jew, Smyth was
charged by a federal grand jury in May 1985 with smuggling 810 kry-
trons to Israel. Krytrons are electronic devices that can be used as
Adetonators in nuclear bombs. special license was required to ex-
port them, but had Smyth applied for a permit the U.S. govern-
A Spy in America 305
ment would have refused on the grounds that Israel had not signed
the international Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty.
FBI investigators found that 80 percent of Milco's business, dating
back to 1973, was with Israel. Smyth was freed on one hundred thou-
sand dollars bail, but three months later he did not appear for his trial.
He disappeared, but sightings of Smyth were reported in Britain and
in Israel.
Israel apologized to the United States after the case hit the head-
lines, stating that the krytrons were meant for medical purposes and
had not been used in its nuclear program. As the Americans de-
manded, all "unused" detonators were returned. 4
A number of other incidents were reported in 1985 in which Israeli
government corporations, such as Israel Military Industries, were al-
legedly involved in shady deals with American corporations. Some of
the Americans were even put on trial. Government officials, espe-
cially in the U.S. Customs Service and the FBI, did not hide their out-
rage at Israel's conduct.
Still, the loudest and clearest message from Washington, especially
after Ronald Reagan became president in 198 1, was that Israel would
never suffer long for anything it did. The golden era of the undeclared
but vigorous U.S. -Israeli alliance had finally reached full fruition.
NATOThere was no formal pledge, as in the case of and other mili-
tary pacts, that an attack on one nation would be considered an at-
tack on both. But Israel had good reason to feel itself just as close to
and more protected by the United States than the official Western
allies such as Britain could feel.
Reagan went further than any U.S. president had done to make the
Israelis feel secure. There was no real U.S. government protest at the
invasion of Lebanon in 1982. The State Department railed against
the construction of Jewish settlements in the occupied territories but
did nothing about it. Most importantly, the White House gave enthu-
siastic backing to a formal memorandum on strategic cooperation
with Israel.
Much of the memorandum was kept secret, but visible effects in-
cluded an increase in port visits to Haifa by America's Sixth Fleet.
Military equipment and medical supplies were prepositioned in Israel
by the U.S. armed forces, and joint training exercises were far more
common than ever. The invisible effects included heightened cooper-
—ation between the intelligence communities including the fight
306 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
against terrorism, in which the United States was almost totally de-
pendent on the Israelis for information on Arab terrorist groups.
CIA veterans with long years of service in the Middle East con-
cluded that the Israelis could get away with anything and certainly
knew it. One American spy even told a Mossad contact, only halfjok-
ingly, that Israel was lucky it never became the fifty-first state. "Why
are we so lucky?" the Israeli intelligence man wondered.
"Because then," said the CIA agent, "you would only have two
U.S. senators, and this way you have at least sixty."
The Reagan administration, with the enthusiastic endorsement of
the pro-Israeli Congress, was giving the Jewish state around three bil-
lion dollars a year in aid, two thirds of it in military support. The well
of generosity appeared almost bottomless, and the fountain of for-
giveness for the occasional transgression never ran dry.
Still, the intelligence communities of both countries knew enough
to be suspicious of each other. The FBI was especially wary of the
wide range of Israeli activities in the United States, convinced that
much of it amounted to spying, and it was always on the lookout for
violations of law in Israel's aggressive acquisition of technology.
The fact that there had been a few prosecutions and even more
leaks to the press by angry American officials served as a warning to
Eitan and the rest of Israel's military-industrial establishment that co-
vert action always carries the danger of being caught. This was no new
revelation to Eitan, a seasoned professional who had been directing
complex plots and running agents for decades in the Mossad and
Shin Bet. When he read Colonel Sella's report from New York, Eitan
was both intrigued and dubious about the appearance of Pollard as a
"walk-in" volunteer. It could be a "sting" operation by the U.S. au-
thorities or a trap of another sort, and a spymaster such as Eitan
knows to be cautious about anyone who seems overly eager.
Eitan also knew, however, that the young American could be very
valuable. Despite the formal exchange agreements, Israel's intelli-
gence community always assumed that the United States was not
sharing everything. Pollard could fill the gaps. Only with a spy on the
inside could the Israelis know what they were missing.
Pollard also represented Eitan's chance to out-Mossad the Mossad,
—as part of his efforts to expand Lakam into new territory to show
that only he could obtain more from Washington than the CIA and
the Pentagon were providing.
A Spy in America 307
Mossad chief Admoni refused to have his agency formally run a
spy in the heart of the American intelligence community, in light of
the 1 95 1 cooperation agreement with the CIA and successive updates
of the accord. There were daily contacts, including computer links,
plus formal meetings twice a year to consider new plans for coopera-
tion and to review the world with a view toward joint opportunities. It
would be embarrassing and even destructive to the relationship for
the Mossad to plant an agent among its friends; even worse, to be
caught.
While spying covertly, dishonestly, and directly on each other's in-
telligence communities was officially considered out of bounds, wily
espionage plotters on both sides knew that it could be done if the ut-
most caution and professional spycraft were used. The first priority,
according to Americans and Israelis who clearly have carried out such
operations, would be to mask who was really running the show. In
theory, if the CIA found an agent it could recruit within Israeli intelli-
gence, the ideal technique would require that the agent not know he
was being hired by the United States. He should be "false-flagged,"
meaning he would be told it was Switzerland or West Germany or
somebody else offering him money in exchange for information.
If the agent does know for whom he is working and indeed insists
that he only wishes to serve the United States, then at the very least he
should not be run through the local CIA station in Tel Aviv. There
should be no traces of American involvement, and meetings should
be held in third countries. The operation should be directed from
some other CIA station.
Even better, alternative agencies should be used. The CIA should
not be involved formally in running spies within Israel and should
hand over such responsibility to another part of the U.S. intelligence
community. Similarly, when presented with an espionage opportu-
nity in the United States the Mossad could elect to leave the job to an-
other agency such as Lakam.
In fact, there is no indication that American intelligence penetrated
Israel's secret services. However, the United States has sent spies into
Israel on specific missions to learn about military, economic, and sci-
—entific projects including the nuclear program. Defense Minister
Yitzhak Rabin remarked immediately after Pollard's arrest that Israel
had discovered five American spies in the late 1970s and early 1980s in
sensitive nuclear and industrial facilities. One had been gathering in-
308 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
formation within the state-owned arms development company Ra-
fael in Haifa. Another was an American scientist working as part of
an exchange program in the Nahal Sorek nuclear research reactor
that had been given to Israel by the Eisenhower administration. The
American spies were questioned, but Israel's less rigid legal system
made it possible for the government to release and expel them for the
sake of avoiding embarrassment and conflict with the United States.
In these operations, considered highly sensitive and never officially
confirmed by Washington, the above recipe was scrupulously used.
The American operatives came from third-country bases. The CIA
station chief in Tel Aviv was never told, so he could totally avoid com-
promising his function as liaison with the Mossad. And if an Israeli
agent had to be paid for information or "research," it was preferable
that he never know that the American dollars he received were, in
every sense, U.S. dollars. When the Pollard case came to light, Senate
Intelligence Committee member David Durenberger let it slip that
American intelligence had run at least one Israeli soldier as a paid
agent during the 1982 invasion of Lebanon.
CIA headquarters staff in Langley was always tempted to look for
potential agents among the hundreds of thousands of Americans who
have moved to Israel. However, because they are almost all Jews who
became immigrants for the sake of religion or Zionism, the CIA felt
their ultimate loyalty would more likely be to Israel rather than to
their native United States. While Israeli intelligence always believed
that Soviet-bloc espionage agencies were planting spies among Jewish
immigrants heading to their biblical homeland, they never seriously
suspected that the CIA was doing so. Shin Bet officials found almost
anything conceivable, but did not believe there were any longtime
American moles among the waves of new Israelis.
On the other hand, American intelligence took it for granted that
there were spies among the Israelis who moved to the United States or
Howvisited for work or study. could a country considering itself at
war, even a friendly nation, not send secret agents wherever there was
useful information and material to be found?
Israeli covert activities in the United States were, indeed, wide-
spread, but not nearly so structured or ominous as FBI officials and
other xenophobes might have supposed. Israelis traveling abroad,
—even to America, were sometimes &sked to keep their eyes open
especially if they were scientists taking part in projects of interest to
A Spy in America 309
Israeli defense. But they would not be formally hired or even paid by
the Mossad or Aman. Information that could help Israel ought to be
sent home for patriotic reasons, many of the travelers felt. Most
Israelis in America, of course, never did anything of the sort and
never saw anything of espionage interest anyway. But from the few
—who did help, Israeli intelligence sometimes getting the informa-
—tion through institutes and businesses with employees abroad
benefited.
Whatever the clandestine activity in the United States, the Mossad
—avoided using its local station in Washington just as the Americans
did in Israel. When an Israeli spy was sent to America on a specific
mission, the Mossad people in Washington were not told. Also simi-
lar to the CIA recipe, if Israeli intelligence felt it had to pay an Ameri-
can for information, every effort would be made to use the "false
flag" of another nation or, even better, to make it appear like a little
harmless industrial espionage by a U.S. company.
Jonathan Pollard was truly an unusual case. He was a walk-in; he
was working in naval intelligence with access to documents; and he
was Jewish, offering to work only for his beloved Israel. Eitan knew of
the dangers of using local Jews as secret agents inside their own home
—countries along the pattern of Egypt and Iraq in the 1950s. But the
information that Pollard could obtain was irresistible.
With the consent of the chief of staff and the air force commander,
Eitan was allowed to use Colonel Sella for the unique mission. The
two top military generals, Moshe Levy and Amos Lapidot, were not
to know the precise details of what Sella, the veteran flier now study-
ing computer science at New York University, would be doing for his
country.
Eitan directed Sella to inform Pollard that the Jewish state was pre-
pared to give him a try. The colonel had several guarded conversa-
tions with the American intelligence analyst, using public telephone
booths in New York and Washington to minimize the chances of an
FBI wiretap.
Sella commuted to Washington on shuttle flights from New York
several times in the summer of 1984, to meet with Pollard and pick up
documents. Sella was assisted by Eitan's Lakam attaches in both
American cities, but unlike them Sella was not protected by diplo-
matic immunity. If he were arrested and tried for receiving secret
papers, Sella himself, the air force, and the State of Israel would be se-
310 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
verely embarrassed and probably much worse. The young colonel, al-
though trained in combat flying rather than espionage, was willing to
take the risk.
The first documents given to Sella were from the Naval Intelli-
gence Service, mainly computer printouts from Pollard's terminal.
They were rushed to Tel Aviv by diplomatic pouch, and they were
—astounding by far exceeding Eitan's expectations.
Pollard had only recently joined the Anti-Terrorism Alert Center in
Suitland, Maryland, yet he was immediately giving Sella information
on subjects ranging far beyond his work at the ATAC. There were tan-
—talizing details not the full story, but filling in some of the gaps in
—Israel's own knowledge on Syria's development of a chemical arse-
nal and Iraq's efforts to revive its nuclear program.
There was information on some of the newest weapons systems ob-
tained by Israel's Arab neighbors. There were even lists and descrip-
tions of arms recently purchased by Egypt, Jordan, and Saudi Arabia,
and because those three Arab states were seen as pro-American mod-
erates the United States had always refused to share its intelligence
about them with Israel. Now, Eitan realized, Israel could have a win-
dow onto those countries.
Pollard's enthusiasm was overwhelming, especially after he was
promoted within the ATAC in October 1984. His security clearance
was elevated and, he told the Israelis, almost any document in the
American intelligence network would be within his reach.
He could even borrow reconnaissance photographs taken by
American spy satellites, but because these could not be reproduced by
his computer terminal he would have to borrow the photos for a day
or two.
Sella was thrilled. He knew how valuable the spy-in-the-sky could
be. Just over three years earlier, before leading his squadron of
fighter-bombers in the raid on the Baghdad reactor, Sella had studied
U.S. satellite photos that pinpointed the target. Such access was rare,
however. Only infrequently did CIA director William Casey share
such gems with Israel as part of the strategic cooperation accords.
Meantime, Sella completed his computer courses in New York and
returned to Israel. Pollard waited for a new case officer.
Eitan was so pleased with the results so far that he decided to launch a
new phase. Pollard and Anne Henderson, then his fiancee, were
flown to Paris at Lakam's expense in November 1984. There, a little
1
A Spy in America 31
surprise awaited them. Avi Sella was again on the scene, and he wined
them in the City of Light. Pollard was puzzled as to why they had
been brought to France for a pleasant reunion. The mystery was
cleared up when Sella introduced him to Yossi Yagur, his new case of-
ficer.
Yagur was Lakam's science consul at the Israeli consulate in New
York. His official, but vague, resume speaks of several unspecified
jobs earlier in the defense ministry. In case the worst should happen,
Yagur was protected by diplomatic immunity.
As consul since 1980, Yagur was accustomed to attending academic
conferences, forging friendships with American scientists in the de-
fense and other industries, and sending huge files of clippings from
newspapers and professional journals to Lakam's analysts in Tel Aviv.
As a further surprise, Pollard got to meet the legendary Raft Eitan,
whose exploits such as kidnapping Eichmann were outlined to the
young American to impress him. Eitan was introduced as director of
the entire operation, and he and Yagur sat down with Pollard to dis-
cuss their next moves, including specific documents required for
Israel's defense. 5
In more relaxed moments, Sella encouraged Jay and Anne to ad-
mire the windows of some of the French capital's most elegant jew-
elry stores. When she fell in love with a large sapphire and diamond
ring, Sella said, "Go ahead and buy it." He would pay, on condition
that they make it their engagement ring.
It cost around ten thousand dollars, and in many ways it was the
tangible mark of the Pollards' engagement by Israel. Sella even gave
them a handwritten note that spoke of the jewelry as a gift from
"Uncle Joe," just in case someone in Washington should ask them
how they could afford such a thing. Jay and Anne would marry the
following August in Venice and spend a three-week honeymoon
—there which was not only paid for by Israel, but included a detour
to Tel Aviv to meet Eitan again.
In compensation for necessary expenses and as a token of their ap-
preciation, the Israelis told Pollard, he would be paid fifteen hundred
dollars a month. In addition to Anne's ring, Pollard was immediately
given ten thousand dollars in cash, and Eitan told him that a Swiss
bank account had been opened for him. His fees would be deposited
directly, for Pollard's use in ten years. By then, the American replied,
he would hope to live in Israel. Yagur responded to that by showing
him an Israeli passport already prepared for Pollard with his photo-
312 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
graph and the false name "Danny Cohen." The Lakam team had not
chosen just any old Jewish name. Their American agent had ex-
pressed great admiration for the Israeli master spy who was hanged in
Damascus, Eli Cohen. So to butter up Pollard, Eitan and Yagur of-
fered him the same family name on a passport. He would be welcome
in Israel at any time, as an unheard and unseen hero.
What Eitan did not tell Pollard was that the diamond ring and the
cash were part of a classic technique to ensnare a secret agent and
keep him. The spy who tells his controllers he is acting voluntarily,
—out of ideological affection for the country he is helping or dis-
—gruntled hatred of the nation he is betraying can easily be over-
come by fear or change his mind. Being a volunteer, he feels he can
withdraw at any time.
A paid agent cannot. He feels obliged to deliver, and in the back-
ground lies the threat of blackmail. The recruiters could always get
the agent in trouble with documentary proof of money handed over.
By establishing this implied contract, the employer can feel certain of
having hired a loyal agent.
Pollard's motivation was a combination of Zionism and excite-
ment. The thrill of being a spy was enhanced by exotic trips and secret
payments. But as a zealot, he doubtless got his greatest pleasure from
knowing that he helped Israel defend itself.
As soon as he returned home from Europe, Pollard got right to
—work. He brought an entire suitcase full of documents and the fa-
—bled satellite photographs of the Middle East to a house in Mary-
land where he met Yagur. The case officer taught Pollard some code-
words to be used in case communication or cancellation of an
expected meeting was absolutely necessary. Yagur told Pollard that
he would be expected and most welcome, every other Friday, at a spe-
cial photocopying facility being prepared in a Washington apartment
building where Irit Erb resided. She worked as a secretary for a
Lakam man in the Israeli embassy.
An apartment filled with photocopying equipment had been pur-
chased by Harold Katz, an American Jew working as a lawyer in
Israel who apparently did not know how his Washington residence
was to be used by the defense ministry. There was so much high-speed
and high-quality copying hardware that a special electronic defense
system was installed to prevent any electromagnetic interference that
could be noticed on the television sets of neighbors. 6
A Spy in America 313
The Israeli handlers knew how to keep Pollard interested in his
work: they stroked his ego. Yagur frequently told Pollard that he was
extremely valuable, and that various parts of Israel's intelligence and
defense communities were using the information he had provided.
Because Pollard was in the business of analyzing such matters, he was
not satisfied by generous but general platitudes. He insisted that
Yagur find out, line by line, agency by agency, who in Israel was using
the secret documents from Washington and how.
The various agency chiefs in Tel Aviv must have known that Eitan's
scoops were coming from Washington. After all, only an American
source could have provided satellite photographs. No one asked Eitan
who his agent was. A military man? A Jew? An Israeli planted in the
U.S. armed forces or secret agencies? Men such as Admoni of the
Mossad and the new Aman chief, Ehud Barak, must have wondered.
The quality of the "product" was so good that the nature and risks of
the espionage operation should not have been ignored.
It is inherent in the system, however, that such questions are never
asked about another agency's operation. Revealing details would vio-
late compartmentalization. Their internal rivalries also would have
stopped them from insisting that their counterparts reveal their
sources.
Pollard was bringing huge piles of files to Irit Erb in fortnightly in-
stallments. At first, he did the selecting. But Yagur then made it a
—habit to choose certain documents in advance as though he were
ordering from a menu, in this case, apparently, a catalog of docu-
ments compiled by the Pentagon's Defense Intelligence Agency, the
HowDIA. could such a catalog, itself a classified document, fall into
the hands of foreigners? American investigators saw this as prima
facie evidence of another Israeli spy, probably more important than
Pollard.
Theoretically, Israel could have obtained the catalog from an agent
NATOor a source in a country, which might have gotten it from the
United States. On the other hand, the Israeli embassy in Washington
has a huge number of friends in the Pentagon, even when the secre-
tary of defense is antagonistic toward Israel, as was Caspar Wein-
berger during Pollard's illicit activities.
—Using his "courier card" the most valuable library card in the
—Washington area Pollard was able to borrow secret documents from
six restricted archives: the CIA, the FBI, the State Department, the
314 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
DIA, his own NIS, and even the National Security Agency with its
tight controls. 7 If it involved the Middle East, even peripherally, Pol-
lard believed that Israel should know about it. He felt strongly that
Secretary Weinberger and the U.S. intelligence community were not
sharing with Israel everything they knew about potential threats to
the Jewish state.
Thanks to their eccentric but effective spy, the Israelis received CIA
analyses, copies of messages exchanged among American facilities in
the region, details of Soviet arms shipments to Syria and other allies
as spotted by U.S. secret agents or spy-in-the-sky satellites, and actual
photographs from those satellites.
While much in the way of raw data and polished analysis was regu-
larly shared between Washington and Tel Aviv, satellite photos had
always been a particular problem. Out of a purported fear that infor-
mation on the methods and capabilities of U.S. "technical" recon-
naissance would leak out, the Americans usually rejected Israeli re-
—quests for specific photographs or sometimes considered the pleas
for so many days that they were no longer relevant. The United States
had delayed indefinitely a reply on a more ambitious request by
Israel: that it be given its own ground station and satellite receiving
dish to receive and decode the photographs taken from orbit.
The photographs and analyses provided by Pollard allowed the
Israelis, for nearly a year until he was caught, to monitor in detail the
movement of various navies' vessels in the Mediterranean. There was
a CIA file on Pakistan's efforts to build a nuclear weapon, an "Islamic
bomb" project, which was of concern to Israel as the greatest such
threat after destroying Iraq's reactor in 1981. There were details on
chemical weapons stockpiled by Iraq and Syria, two of Israel's im-
placable enemies, where information was difficult to obtain.
Pollard's own reflections in prison, shared with journalist Wolf
Blitzer, are significant in assessing why Eitan found him so valuable.
Pollard said he found that Israeli intelligence is "by no means an all-
knowing giant straddling the Middle East." The Israelis were devot-
ing "their best human and technical assets against Syria, which repre-
sents the most immediate threat to their survival." Pollard said he
concentrated on "their outer ring of enemies: namely, Libya, Algeria,
Iraq, and Pakistan." 8
The most valuable pieces of purloined intelligence, in terms of ena-
bling the Israelis to carry out a specific mission, were the aerial photo-
graphs of PLO headquarters in Tunis. There were also reports on the
5
A Spy in America 31
air defense systems of the North African states on the way to Tunisia,
including Colonel Qaddafi's Libya. Israel's air force bombed the PLO
complex on October 1, 1985, in the most distant Israeli bombing raid
ever. It flattened much of Yasser Arafat's base, and Pollard took
pleasure in knowing that he had helped make it happen.
In Washington, Pollard was driving himself too hard. His overen-
thusiasm gave way to fatigue, and the navy's Anti-Terrorism Alert
Center noted that his job performance markedly declined. He was
doing a full-time job analyzing data and computerized intelligence
reports for the navy, and then another full-time job as a spy obtaining
many more documents for his Israeli handlers.
Pollard began to deliver thousands of pages dealing with terrorist
threats, Soviet arms shipments, electronic communications inter-
cepts, and weapons systems in the Arab countries. Eitan and the few
analysts at his disposal in Lakam could barely keep up. One of Pol-
lard's Stanford professors had felt that he "tended to overdo things; if
you gave him an assignment to write a paper, it would come in ele-
gantly, but much longer" than was assigned. 9 Now Pollard was behav-
ing similarly, not as a student but as a sort of instructor to the Israelis.
America's intelligence community should have known Pollard was
unreliable, based on his background and quirky behavior. His boss at
ATAC was Commander Jerry Agee, who began to have doubts about
Pollard's reliability after catching him lying twice about some trivial
matters. Agee kept his eyes open and noticed "huge stacks" of top se-
cret material on Pollard's desk that were not related to his assigned
tasks. On Friday afternoon, October 25, a colleague reported that Pol-
lard left work with a large package of material in computer center
wrapping. The authorities found that he had just "accessed" Middle
East message traffic.
Agee checked again on the following two Fridays, November 1 and
8, and noted that Pollard was collecting additional top secret data.
Unable to sleep, Agee went to the office at 4:30 one morning and
found even more Middle East material in Pollard's work space. The
navy commander said to himself: "I've got a fucking spy!" 10
Agee could not persuade the FBI to put Pollard under surveillance,
because the agency already had its hands full with a rash of foreign es-
TVpionage rings. But naval counterintelligence did plant hidden
cameras around Pollard's work space. They watched him, and they
felt certain that he was amassing his own personal intelligence library.
He was detained for questioning on November 18.
3l6 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
Naval intelligence agents questioned Pollard for three days, on and
off, but they did not hold him incommunicado. Experienced at tell-
ing tales of fantasy rather than fact, he told the agents that he would
help them uncover a multinational espionage plot of which he was
aware.
They were too lax, and even during the first session the interroga-
tors permitted Pollard to call his wife. While ostensibly explaining
that he would be coming home late that evening, he also told Anne to
"take the cactus to friends." It was a code they had developed earlier,
indicating that he was in trouble and any secret documents at home
should be removed at once.
Ironically the Pollards were scheduled to have dinner that evening,
the eighteenth, with Aviem Sella, who was on a visit to the United
States. Sella had told the Pollards that the air force had promoted him
to brigadier general, and they ought to go out to celebrate. Instead, as
Anne left for the dinner date she was in a state of panic.
On her way out she tried to get rid of a suitcase that, for the Pol-
lards, was as explosive as dynamite. It contained a fifteen-inch-thick
stack of secret U.S. documents; it was in their apartment; and it was
the "cactus" to which Jay had referred. Anne frantically turned to
their friendly neighbors, the Esfandiaris, for help. She asked Christine
Esfandiari to take the suitcase, which she said was filled with docu-
ments from Jay's work, and to deliver it to her at Washington's Four
Seasons Hotel. She was extremely nervous and also gave Mrs. Esfan-
diari the Pollards' wedding album for safekeeping.
The Pollards had been good to the Esfandiaris, even lending them
their Mustang on occasion, but a request to smuggle a suitcase out of
the apartment building seemed too weird to Christine. She happened
to be the daughter of a U.S. Navy career officer, and the next morn-
ing she telephoned the Naval Investigative Service and said, "I have
some classified information that may be of help to you."
Mrs. Esfandiari later recalled: "It was very hard because we cared
so much about them, but in good conscience we couldn't let some-
thing like that go. I couldn't believe that was our Anne and Jay. I was
mad. I was hurt. I felt deceived and betrayed." 11
Asking a neighbor for a favor was certainly not a professionally
planned way to get rid of incriminating evidence. Among other
things, the suitcase had Pollard's name on it. Even if it had made its
way to the D.C. dump, it could have landed him into trouble.
KAnne had a nervous dinner at a Chinese restaurant on Street
A Spy in America 317
with Sella. "Jay is in trouble," she said. Sella sensed severe danger and
nervously told Anne not to admit they had ever met. They never saw
each other again. 12
Anne Henderson-Pollard returned home and found that Jay was
back from his first questioning session. Both were extremely agitated
— —Pollard telling his wife of the horrors of being questioned and
they decided to call their case officer. Pollard got through to Yagur
and demanded asylum and transport to Israel.
Yagur, to warn Pollard but also to calm him, replied, "You're prob-
ably being followed. If you shake your surveillance, come in and we'll
try to help." The remark was unexpectedly amateurish for an espio-
nage handler: If Yagur believed that his agent was being followed, he
should have known Pollard's telephone was being wiretapped, too.
Israel and the Pollards would all pay for their lack of professional-
ism in this most delicate and dangerous operation. The Israelis were
in an unseemly race to see who could flee fastest. Within three days,
Yagur and Sella flew home from New York; Irit Erb and her boss,
deputy Lakam attache at the Washington embassy Ilan Ravid, left for
Israel from the capital. The news that an American had been arrested
—for espionage had broken although with much confusion and only
moderate impact.
When Pollard's handlers arrived in Israel, intelligence officials and
politicians there already knew that media reports of his being brought
from the embassy gates to FBI headquarters would be bound to harm
—Israel's relations with the United States more specifically, with the
CIA and the defense establishment.
When Israel first admitted the possibility of involvement with
— —Pollard a full three days after his arrest there was general shock
that Israeli intelligence would have been so stupid as to have allowed
an agent to be arrested at Israel's embassy. With foreign espionage ac-
tivities always believed to be in the Mossad's purview, the public was
surprised that the Mossad could be so amateurish and foolish.
—Within a few days, it was revealed that Lakam its existence
—never even mentioned before was responsible. But this did not
offer much comfort to the people of Israel.
There was puzzlement on the American side, too. Ronald Reagan
first heard of Pollard's arrest when the president was flying back to
Washington from his first summit with Soviet leader Mikhail Gorba-
chev in Geneva. Of the Israelis, whom he had nourished with juicy fi-
nancial and military aid, promoting them into major allies of the
3l8 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
United States, Reagan said, "I don't understand why they are doing
13
it."
On the other hand, the Americans should have known better. The
CIA, for one, always assumed that Israeli spies were active in the
AUnited States. secret study by the agency declared that after gather-
ing intelligence on its Arab neighbors, the second and third priorities
of Israeli intelligence were the "collection of information on secret
U.S. policy or decisions, if any, concerning Israel," and the "collec-
tion of scientific intelligence in the United States and other developed
countries." 14
They also should have known more about Pollard and his unstable
history, as it unfolded during his interrogation. It became clear that he
should never have been in the intelligence community. The CIA had
rejected Pollard, but the agency did not advise naval intelligence
when he started working there.
Anne Henderson-Pollard was also arrested, because she knew of
her husband's espionage activities and helped him whenever she
could. She also succumbed to temptation by using some documents
he obtained for her public relations work.
Federal prosecutors insisted on prosecuting Henderson-Pollard,
but they were especially harsh in preparing a strikingly strong case
against her husband. The prosecutors told U.S. District Court Judge
Aubrey Robinson that "this defendant has admitted that he sold to
Israel a volume of classified documents, ten feet by six feet by six
feet" if all gathered into one huge pile.
Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger wrote his own letter to Judge
Robinson: "It is difficult for me to conceive of a greater harm to na-
tional security than that caused by the defendant." Weinberger said
privately that Pollard deserved to be hanged or shot, adding that re-
pairing the damage he caused could cost the United States a billion
dollars.
On March 4, 1987, nine months after pleading guilty in a bargain
that was supposed to mean he would not have to spend the rest of his
days in prison, Pollard was given a life sentence anyway. Weinberger's
letter had swayed the judge.
Pollard was thirty-two years old. His wife, at age twenty-six, had
pleaded guilty to lesser charges of handling classified documents and
was sentenced to five years in prison. Anne fell to the floor of Court-
room Eight in the federal courthouse in Washington and screamed,
"No! No!" She nearly tore at the oak-paneled walls in grief and anger.
A Spy in America 319
When more composed, she said, "I pray to God every single day I'll
mybe reunited with husband. That's all I live 15 Because of a gas-
for."
trointestinal disorder, Anne would suffer terrible pain and severe
weight loss during almost three years of imprisonment.
Pollard had made the mistake of boasting that he had been "quite
literally, Israel's eyes and ears over an immense geographic area
stretching from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean." His memo to the
judge also offered the opinion that the information he gave to Israel
"was so unique" that the country's political leaders must "have
known about the existence of an agent working in the American intel-
ligence establishment." The way the Israeli handlers had "tasked"
him, he said, indicated "a highly coordinated effort between the
naval, army, and air force intelligence services." 16
True as the assessment may have been, inflating the importance of
his undercover work could hardly strengthen Pollard's case before
Judge Robinson. But the spy felt abandoned by his spymasters, and
implicating top Israelis was his bit of revenge.
U.S. investigators rushed to Tel Aviv to test the Israeli govern-
ment's assertion that the Pollard affair had been merely "a rogue
—operation" that the Jewish state's leaders had not known they had
a spy in American intelligence.
To show their goodwill, the Israelis set up a liaison team to give
U.S. investigators all possible assistance. Shin Bet chief Avraham Sha-
lom was put in charge of the liaison effort, largely because the Ameri-
cans would consider him a man of integrity. The Israeli public would
soon learn that he was a master of coverups, as Shalom was publicly
accused of lying to his own government and others as part of the scan-
dal surrounding the killing of the two bus hijackers in 1984.
Apparently receiving full cooperation from Shalom, American
prosecutor Joseph DiGenova and State Department lawyer Abraham
Sofaer believed they were questioning all the Israelis involved in run-
ning Pollard. However, they were not told about Aviem Sella. Israel
would not say precisely who had recruited Lakam's spy in Washing-
ton.
When, on top of that, the Americans were told that every single
document provided by Pollard was being returned to them, they flew
home to Washington and found that they had received only 163 out of
over one thousand separate items they had expected. The sleight of
hand angered the U.S. investigators, even though the point was
purely symbolic: the Israelis obviously could keep copies of their pho-
320 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
tocopies, and Pollard had never given them any original documents
or photographs to keep. 17
FBI director William Webster was openly critical of the Israelis, ac-
cusing them of giving only "selective cooperation." Webster's atti-
tude, as an antagonized and frustrated crime solver, would haunt
Israel's intelligence community for a long time to come, because
barely a year later Webster would become the Director of Central In-
telligence, the head of the CIA.
With their eyes on the American practice of setting up investigative
commissions, the Israelis reluctantly formed two inquiry bodies. One
probe would be by the Knesset's foreign affairs and defense commit-
tee, chaired by Abba Eban. The other would be handled by a two-
man commission appointed by the cabinet, but this effort ran into
early trouble when a former chiefjustice of the supreme court, Moshe
Landau, refused to serve. Landau was seventy-four years old, and
after an honorable career on the judicial bench he did not want to be
used as part of a coverup. He had insisted that he be given the power
to compel witnesses to testify, and he had wanted the panel's findings
to be binding. Another year and a half would pass before Landau
would be persuaded to investigate the Shin Bet scandal.
The government did find two men with solid establishment con-
nections who were willing to look into Lakam's use of an American
spy: attorney Yehoshua Rotenstreich, who was a legal consultant to
the intelligence community, and former army chief of staff Zvi Zur
— who two decades earlier had supervised Lakam with an extremely
light touch, when the secret agency was led by Binyamin Blumberg.
Israel's national unity government agreed that the two parallel in-
vestigations should look into everything, including the role of top
politicians in the Pollard affair. The cabinet's leading trio played a
concerted tune. Shimon Peres as prime minister, his foreign minister,
Yitzhak Shamir, and the defense minister, Yitzhak Rabin, promised
to cooperate with Eban's Knesset committee.
—As long as the investigators dealt with the operational side how
—Pollard was run, rather than who was behind it they were on safe
ground. Both inquiries agreed that Pollard worked for Ran Eitan's
Lakam, and that Aviem Sella played the role of middleman and
seducer with the consent of his military superiors. Sella's name
emerged in public only because Pollard gave American interrogators
the name of his recruiter.
1
A Spy in America 32
Where the two committees differed was on the question of political
—responsibility. The cabinet-appointed commission did not find or
—at least did not mention any connection with Israeli politicians. It
considered the Pollard affair only as an intelligence operation in isola-
tion. The parliamentary panel, before disintegrating because of divi-
sions between Likud and Labor members, simply dropped a few hints
that political leaders deserved some of the blame.
Pollard was recruited when Moshe Arens was defense minister, re-
sponsible for Lakam, and Shamir was prime minister. The American
spy continued to provide information when Rabin replaced Arens,
and Peres replaced Shamir. The four politicians concerned did con-
cede that they had received some of the data provided by Pollard, but
in keeping with normal practice they had never asked the identity of
the source. If they had known, they claimed, they would immediately
have canceled the operation.
Ran Eitan, on the other hand, told the committees that his con-
myscience was completely clear. "All actions, including Pollard,
were done with the knowledge of those in charge. I do not intend to be
used as a scapegoat to cover up the knowledge and responsibility of
others." 18
The veteran spymaster seemed to be suggesting that the political
leaders knew more than they were admitting. It would be no surprise
that they did not know the name of Jonathan Jay Pollard and his spe-
cific job, but some appreciation of where the intelligence "product"
must have come from could be expected from politicians who had
long experience in military and clandestine affairs: Rabin as a former
chief of staff, Shamir as a senior Mossad operative, Peres as the dep-
uty defense minister who created Lakam, and even Arens with his
military aeronautical engineering background.
If the U.S. administration and the American people were astonished
by the lack of accountability in democratic Israel, they were further
flummoxed when the Israeli culprits not only escaped punishment,
but enjoyed promotions.
Shortly after returning from the United States, Brigadier General
Sella was put in command of Tel Nof air base, the biggest in Israel.
American military attaches were often there, south of Tel Aviv, de-
briefing Israeli pilots on their missions in U.S.-made warplanes as
part of the bilateral defense and intelligence cooperation. 19
322 EVERY SPY A PRINCE
The other shoe dropped when Sella became the third and last
— —person after the Pollards to be indicted on criminal charges in
the conspiracy. For the first time, a high-ranking military or civilian
official of a U.S. ally was formally accused of espionage against the
United 20
States.
When American officials learned that the air base commander had
been the case officer who recruited Israel's spy in America, Washing-
ton decreed that no U.S. official would set foot inside Tel Nof so long
as Sella was in charge of the facility. George Bush, then vice president,
refused to visit Sella's base while visiting Israel in 21 The pressure
1986.
worked. Israel's political and defense leaders sacrificed the young
general on the altar of Israeli-American relations. Sella resigned his
command.
The same Israeli leaders found it more difficult to remove Eitan.
As minister for trade and industry, Ariel Sharon once again rushed to
the rescue of his old protege. Just as other intelligence veterans had
discovered shelter in Sharon's fiefdom, Eitan was given the chair-
manship of Israel Chemicals, the largest state-owned industrial com-
pany.
In some ways business continued as usual for Israel. The nation's
complex military-industrial requirements could not change simply
because Pollard had been caught. The state still needs its spies in
Lakam's fields of science, technology, and industry. This, after all,
was always one of the specialties of the Israeli intelligence commu-
nity.
The Israeli government adhered to its public promise, soon after
Pollard was arrested, to disband the "rogue" unit that ran him as a
spy. However, the intelligence community continued in various ways
to obtain all that seemed vital for national security. The community
adjusted its division of labor and managed to get along without
Lakam. The American authorities were not greatly bothered by this,
it being so natural that Israel still had to meet its defense needs by
technological espionage. But the United States insisted that Israel
pledge never again to employ an agent within American intelligence.
As for Pollard himself, he felt abandoned by the Israelis to his life
sentence in the federal prison system. He was bitter but still fervently
supported the Jewish state and its defense. Israel's government, how-
ever, did nothing to defend him. While the cooperation with the U.S.
prosecutors had been far from complete, the obstruction was meant
A Spy in America 323
—to protect Avi Sella and the other Israelis who ran Pollard not the
American they ran.
There was some secret backing from the intelligence community,
however, for a private group of Israeli lawyers and public relations
people who collected money to help pay the Pollards' legal expenses.
There were even some unofficial attempts by lawyers and relatives to
explore the possibilities of a spy swap, with suggestions that Israel
might be willing to release one or more of the Soviet moles it had
— —captured such as Shabtai Kalmanovitch and Marcus Klingberg
in exchange for Pollard. It was unclear, however, how the United
States could benefit from such a deal. There was a confidential report
in early 1990 that a Western spy imprisoned in Czechoslovakia could
be part of a multisided swap. Many Israeli officials were reluctant, in
any event, to have Pollard free and living in Israel as a reminder of a
great embarrassment.
The most lasting damage caused by the Pollard affair was the cre-
ation of an uncomfortable rift between Israel and American Jewry.
The Israeli intelligence community, for many years, had been careful
not to confront Jews in other lands with the painful question of dual
loyalty. Recruiting Pollard and taking advantage of his own divided
allegiances shattered that pattern, and the U.S. Jewish community
was deeply disturbed that its Gentile neighbors might believe that
American Jews loved Israel more than the United States.
So why did Israel confront the six million Jews of America with this
dilemma by using Pollard? Stupidity? Arrogance? Carelessness?
These were not the only questions left unanswered. A former CIA
director says, "I've never understood why the Israelis ran Pollard.
They get everything for free here in the U.S. The Israelis based at their
embassy in Washington aren't just strumming their guitars. They're
out there, doing legwork, meeting people. But they don't have to steal
much, because ninety percent of what they get, they are purposely
given by friendly and cooperative Americans." 22
The shadow of distrust cast by the Pollard affair between U.S. and
Israeli intelligence would never quite be lifted, but hurt feelings al-
most always give way to strategic realities and national interests.
When the two nations needed each other in the mid-1980s, in coping
with sensitive issues such as Iran and hostages, they found new, unor-
thodox channels for cooperation.
FIFTEEN
The Chaos of Irangate
The Iranian prime minister's voice could be heard from the
other end of the Swiss hotel suite. Mir Hossein Musavi in Teheran,
was shouting down the telephone line at his intelligence chief, Moh-
sen Kangarlu. Kangarlu, in turn, glared at the Israeli who was with
him in the elegant room. The Mossad, the Iranian thought, had just
played a nasty trick.
Kangarlu, an important behind-the-scenes figure in Iran but
hardly known in the West, was in Geneva's Noga Hilton Hotel with
part-time Iranian intelligence operative and weapons dealer Man-
ucher Ghorbanifar and an Israeli who was selling arms in the hope of
liberating American hostages held by pro-Iranian Shiite Moslems in
Lebanon. The Israeli was Yaakov Nimrodi, and the Iranians felt cer-
tain that he was a Mossad agent. Nimrodi was, in fact, only a former
Israeli intelligence operative. Disturbingly, from the point of view of
Israel's intelligence community, the Mossad knew nothing about
what was going on.
It was November 25, 1985, only four days after Jonathan Jay Pol-
lard's arrest in Washington triggered a dangerous loss of faith between
the United States and Israel. Yet here was Nimrodi, authorized by
Prime Minister Shimon Peres to join two other Israelis in cooperating
closely with U.S. officials in the effort to trade arms for hostages.
Exposure would ruin the deal and sentence the Westerners in Leba-
non to further years of miserable captivity. For both Israel and the
United States, it was vital that the contacts with Iran be kept secret.
The Israelis and Americans who were involved deceived even the
Mossad and the CIA.
The Iranian prime minister certainly felt deceived that day, be-
cause he was at Teheran airport with senior military men examining
ground-to-air missiles that had arrived on a clandestine flight from
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